Listen Closer
by MaudlinRogue
Summary: [AU!Mystery/Adventure] What is supposedly an innocent business trip for Annie and her unlikely companions turns out to be a chilling escapade as they unwillingly unravel the secrets of the eerie Hawthorne estate. It all started with a whisper behind the wall...
1. The Heroine

The rays of the morning sun spilled through the lone window of Annie's bedroom, softly caressing her face. Feeling the warmth on her skin, she opened her eyes and turned to look at the clock on her bedside table: 7 AM.

The alarm clock failed to wake her up.

A surge of panic went through her spine, as she was supposed to wake up at 6 AM to get ready for a very anticipated out-of-town trip.

"Damn the vodka," she murmured. She thought she needed the vodka to calm her down while a panic attack disrupted the speech she was practicing last night. The speech that could either make or break her career.

Not good.

Groggily, she sat up and reached for her smartphone, expecting missed calls from her boss. There was a grace period of 15 minutes before the service bus left for the Hawthorne Estate. She was expected to have ridden the bus by 7:15, and it will be a good three hours before they reached the secluded, cultivated mansion of the Hawthornes.

Important clients, infamous for their sense of secrecy and eccentricities.

As she had predicted, her boss, Frankie Dart, had bombarded her with missed calls and text messages—or death notices, she thought. Frankie was dubbed the Raven-haired Demon behind her back, after all.

Luckily, she had crammed some clothes and traveling essentials inside a nifty backpack two days ago, so all that was left now was for her to take a shower, brush her teeth, and put on some clothes. It was a miracle that she had been able to compress her shower time in 10 minutes, brushed her teeth for a few seconds, and put on some decent-looking clothes before she heard the bus honking from the outside. She disregarded putting on cosmetics; combing her brown hair already took most of her last few moments of privacy anyway.

The bus was black, with tainted windows and a big white H insignia in the middle. She was met by a plain-looking man in a black coat. He looked about forty years, with a clean-shaven face and bald head. He was wearing black-rimmed glasses, and had a weird smile that looked out of place.

"Good morning, Miss Annie Edison. I am Dean Pelton. I will be your conductor and butler for this trip," he proclaimed, and his voice, Annie noted, had a very awkward squeak about it. Annie couldn't help but feel ill at ease in his presence. She handed her backpack to him, uncertainly following him as they made their way inside the bus.

The bus driver, a brawny looking man with star-shaped sideburns, did not acknowledge Annie as she followed Dean Pelton to her seat. The man with the star-shaped sideburns had very glazed eyes, and Annie couldn't help but think he was in a psychedelic stupor induced by drugs.

The oddity of the men sent little chills in her spine, even though the inside of the bus looked luxurious, with its comfortable-looking leather seats, mini bar, mini kitchen, two mini refrigerators, and flatscreen tv. It seemed she was the first one to be fetched by the bus, as she was informed she would have five more traveling companions (or business competitors, as she dubbed them) for the trip.

She followed Dean Pelton to the seat in the middle section of the bus, and made herself comfortable even though the anxiety of being with two strange men in a strange vehicle lingered at the back of her mind. Dean, in a polite manner, asked, "Would Miss Edison like some breakfast?"

"That would be lovely," she murmured, pinching herself before she requested a breakfast champagne. "And some aspirin, please." She needed to do something with her headache.


	2. A Dose of Weird

Annie woke with a start.

It had seemed that this day mainly consisted of her waking up in a startled manner, racking her brains for some muddled recollection of what had happened before she was knocked out.

It took a few seconds to remember where she was, and what she was trying to do with a bottle of champagne on her lap. She must have dozed off for about an hour, a few minutes after wolfing down a delicious French breakfast and hot artisanal chocolate. Before that, she had asked for an aspirin, and "accidentally" requested for a bottle of champagne.

She was just wondering what expensive champagne would taste like, and whether it would taste more luscious simply because it was _free._

And the strange conductor with the rather squeaky voice acquiesced, without any hesitation, so it was not entirely the end of the world.

What she didn't remember was when there were a few other passengers aside from herself finally perched on the leather seats.

She also didn't remember when a tall, brown-haired handsome man with a rather big forehead sat beside her, gazing at her coyly.

"It seems to me that the beautiful lady has awoken," he said in a suave voice, "with style." He added, eyeing the champagne. "I am Jeffrey Winger, Pierce Hawthorne's personal lawyer. You can call me Jeff."

Annie blinked, a part of her wanting to blurt out that she wanted nothing from lawyers because they were the worst kind of evil – they lie, manipulate, and let bad things happen to good people.

"Annie Edison." She spoke no more than her name, not wanting him to continue further.

"Please, call me Jeff. You looked beautiful while you were sleeping." A side smile lingered on his face, his eyes still observing her. "I assume you're one of them brats who want the multimillion investment deal."

"And what if I am?"

"I would just like to let you know that you wouldn't succeed."

An eyebrow lifted on Annie's face. "You're simply a lawyer, you have no say in these things."

"Pierce listens to me. I'm like his son. Actually, I'm more than like his son. I'm his confidante. And if he were to agree with anything, it would be him investing in my law firm. He's a bit kooky, so I suggest you better just give up now than face the consequences. He could be really, really fucked up about his terms and conditions."

She knew that she had a lot of competitors for the Hawthorne deal, but she had never been threatened like this before. Especially when her façade was a sweet, doe-eyed girl with an innocent nature.

But the champagne probably gave it away.

A girl of her caliber and experience knew she would need to bite her tongue and spill no information whatsoever to this stranger, so Annie said no more and instead observed the other passengers.

* * *

There were four more passengers aside from herself and Jeff. There was a dark-skinned lady with a comically huge bag at her side, praying with a rosary. There was a Pakistani man with a tall and thin physique watching TV attentively on one of the front row seats, and beside him was another dark-skinned man about her age, playing with a PSP. A skinny blonde woman with a gaunt expression approached their seats.

"Do you know that there's an oil spill in Guam and the dolphins are on death row while we lie around in our privileged asses arguing about the credibility of pineapples on pizza?"

Annie raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe if you smiled more, we'd reconsider," answered Jeff mockingly.

"I wasn't talking to you, Mr. Stuck Up Forehead. Why are you even here? Ran out of people to lie to?"

"You never stopped being a real charmer."

"You guys know each other?" Annie interjected, confused.

The blonde woman huffed. "Unfortunately, I knew him back in college."

"Spanish class. Occasional hook-ups. She was Blonde #1 in my phone." Jeff reminisced.

"Pig," said the blonde woman, rolling her eyes. "I'm Britta Perry," she added, turning to Annie. "Here for the Hawthorne investment for the Save the Dolphins Foundation."

"Annie Edison. Dart Pharmacy Incorporated."

* * *

The Hawthorne Estate must have looked grand and prepossessing in its prime, thought Annie, as she and her traveling companions got off the bus, beholding the gargantuan size of the mansion before them. Time had eaten a good portion of its grandeur, with moss and ivy creeping on the faded walls, cracked pillars, and dust-covered windows. The garden had not been tended for a long time, with most of the plants wilting into oblivion. The oval fountain was dry and grimy.

Jeff smirked and looked at Annie. She tried to seem expressionless. "See what I mean by kooky?"

"You sure this is the right place? It gives me the creeps." The young man who was playing with a PSP asked Dean the conductor.

"How much do you know?" Dean Pelton's face was suddenly littered with nervous sweating. "Troy Barnes, how much do you know?"

The young man whose name was Troy stared in disbelief. "Abed, what do you think?"

He was addressing the Pakistani man who was attentively watching TV in the bus earlier. "I feel like this is going to be a bottle episode," he said in a mechanical voice devoid of emotion. "I hate bottle episodes."

The huge oak door of the Hawthorne mansion opened with a deafening creak.


End file.
